


Saving the savior

by AerwynaNoir



Series: One shots, weirdness [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But only if you squint, Heavy Angst, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, dark and angsty, okay but he gets a happy ending, please get help guys, snarry, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:14:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25052974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AerwynaNoir/pseuds/AerwynaNoir
Summary: Harry saves the world or rather wizarding Britain, but who will save him? Will Severus be too late?
Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Series: One shots, weirdness [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1238225
Comments: 2
Kudos: 90





	Saving the savior

_ Lastly, I am leaving both my wand and my mother’s wand to Severus Snape, may he find it in his heart to forgive me, and I hope my mother’s wand will give him comfort in the coldest of nights. _ Harry muttered as he wrote down the last bit of his will on the parchment he had been carrying around for the last week and slowly adding to. 

Harry was done, he simply could not do this anymore, he couldn't face another day on this godforsaken world. He had lost everything, and he was a freak, a murderer, and an all-around worthless piece of shit. He was tired, he could not keep up with the demands and the expectations, he was trying, but he was failing. 

Years after the fateful confrontation in the department of mysteries and the death of both Voldemort and his beloved godfather. Harry was finally in his seventh year, and honestly, he never thought he would live to be seventeen, and sometimes he wished he never did. 

It was too much, the pressure to be perfect, the pressure to be some idol, some role model that he never wished to be. He could feel the eyes on him twenty-four/seven, Dumbledore’s platitudes years ago about how the hype would die, was just that platitudes, meaningless words that were only there to comfort. He dared not to truly chase his dreams, dared not to experiment, dared not even show any passing interest in anything that was not already known. He felt like a puppet with his strings being pulled by Dumbledore, his life controlled by Granger and his will subjugated, inferior to the life that was envisioned for him. 

Honestly, he was just exhausted. 

He was 17 but had no idea what he liked or disliked, no idea what it was like to fall in love, no idea what it was like to be loved or wanted, no idea what he was other then a weapon honed and sharpened by the manipulations of Fate and Dumbledore. 

He could not do this anymore. 

He watched as blood from the fresh cut he had made slowly dripped onto the parchment,  _ his will _ , he knew wixen blood was magical. By dripping it onto the parchment, it would validate the will as his. That done, he truly no longer had anything tying him to this world, a deep sense of relief permeated him as he realized that, that's it, it was over, in a few minutes he would never open his eyes again. Dropping his wand on top of the parchment he let it go, watching as both items pulled by the embrace of gravity hit the rough stone floor of the highest tower illuminated by moonlight at Hogwarts. The dull thud of his wand on the stone floor would have made him wince a few years ago, a wand was a Wixen’s identity and everything, and the thud of it on a floor and what it meant no longer bothered him. After all, why would he need his wand in the afterlife? 

_ Mom, Dad, Sirius, I’m coming, do you miss me?  _

Harry closed his eyes and let himself fall. 

* * *

Years had passed since the ending the war that has plagued him, yet Severus Snape still stalked the halls of Hogwarts. Now, no longer needing to keep up the pretence of being on the dark lord’s side, and cleared of the guilt he carried for years of the death of Lily Evans, he no longer was the cruel, biased teacher of the yesteryear. Instead, while he was still sarcastic and stern, he was relentlessly fair to every student in Hogwarts and gained somewhat a reputation of being the teacher to go to if anyone was having any kind of problems. Of all the teachers on the staff, he was the only one that knew what is was like to grapple with abuse, and depression, and opened his door to all the students that had similar problems. Dedicating his lifetime to ensure that these kids did not experience the rock bottom he did. His prefects knew to keep an eye on the students and bring any that needed help to his attention, and over time it spread and all the prefects knew that he was the first point of contact for any that needed help in Hogwarts. 

His latest concern was over Harry Potter, and wasn’t that  _ ironic, _ the boy he was relentlessly cruel to through the first five years of his education, the one who freed them all from the dark war, and he was worried over him. But, Harry Potter was fading. Immediately after the war, he saw the spark and fire in the emerald eyes dim, but he fooled himself into thinking it was grief over the godmutt. But he seriously started to get more and more worried as the shadows under the emeralds never faded. He watched as over the next year and a half as all the life and spark completely drained out of Harry Potter. No longer was the boy driven and determined, instead he was quiet and almost 2 dimensional. Oh, the boy, no young man tried to hide it, but the joy and smile he put on never reached his eyes, he watched as Harry Potter faded and was filled by the Boy-Who-Lived. Worst still, when he asked the rest of his colleagues, no one else apart from Minerva thought there was a problem with the young hero. Two of them ran circles around the young man trying to make sure either one of them was always on hand to make sure that they were there if anything happened, held weekly teas with each other trying to figure out how to make Harry open up to either of them or even genuinely smiled again. Slipped nutrition potions in his food on days they worried that he was going to be blown away by the wind, and set up monitoring charms on every hidden corner they could think of in school worried that if they did not they would wake up to a corpse one day. But no matter what they did, both teachers were deeply deeply worried that one day they would wake up to the news that their student had taken his own life. 

The past week, however, had Severus deeply deeply concerned, after what seemed like a downhill battle, as Harry Potter basically became a living inferi, the hero was suddenly happier with no discernible reason. He knew that in most cases, this was the last warning sign before someone took their own life, and he prayed to ever higher power he knew that he was wrong, but his sinking gut told him otherwise. 

Severus bolted upright as his proximity charm on the astronomy tower went off in the dead of the night. He knew Harry had just crossed the threshold of the tower, quickly sending off a Patronus to Minerva, he flicked his wand again to quickly dressed and ran to the tower, praying he was not too late. At times like this, he truthfully regretted how far the dungeon was from everything else. 

* * *

Harry expected to feel the rush of wind tickling through his hair as he flew towards peace, instead what he got was a rough jerk as his arm was caught up in a vice grip from an unknown source. His eyes jerked open and green met black. 

* * *

Harry whistled quietly to himself as he made his way through the building, stopping periodically to high five one small human or hug another as happy cries of Harry! Followed him to his destination. In the days passed after that night, he fought tooth and nail against getting and accepting help, but eventually, Severus and Minerva got through to him. In the months that passed, he slowly recovered and understood that he was not a puppet or a possession for others to control and play with, he got his dignity and his willpower back. Don’t get him wrong, there were still hard days until now, but he never regretted finally giving into accepting help. In the years that passed, he found his purpose back, and at twenty-one opened his life work, an orphanage and safe home for the orphans or families or individuals that have fallen on hard times. At twenty-three, he opened a few more branches. At twenty-five, he married the man that saved him so many years ago, and never left his side since then. At twenty-seven, ten years after that fateful day after he almost took his life, he could finally say that he was happy and that living was bigger, brighter and better than anything he could have imagined. 

  
  
  



End file.
